


Stanley Cups and Emmy Awards

by CrazyJ, ThePackWantstheD



Series: Claude Giroux: Social Media Extraordinaire [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Multimedia, Tweet Fic, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyJ/pseuds/CrazyJ, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePackWantstheD/pseuds/ThePackWantstheD
Summary: "You’ve had the Cup twice!” Claude exclaimed. “And someone wins the Cup every year! How many hockey players do you know that have an Emmy? Because I only know one and it’s you!”Sidney just shrugged. “Like I said, it’s cool. I just don’t think it’s as big a deal as everyone is making it out to be."





	

***

The Emmy’s fell on the day directly after the World Cup of Hockey started, the day after Canada’s first exhibition game against the Czech Republic, so Sidney (and subsequently Claude as his permanent plus one) didn’t actually go to them despite being nominated for one. Not that Claude was really under the impression that Sidney would have gone to them if the awards had been before the tournament either though. 

If it weren’t for the tournament, the two of them would have likely been situated in Pennsylvania. They would have been holed up in Sidney’s Pittsburgh house or Claude’s Philadelphia condo in order to spend as much time with each other as possible before they were called out to their respective training camps. They were always reluctant to part when the pre-season started, knowing that the start of the season meant seeing a lot less of each other than they preferred. 

Instead, the two of them were sprawled out on Claude’s bed in his hotel room. Sidney was sitting against the headboard while Claude laid with his head in his lap. They were watching one final episode of River Monsters, because Sidney liked fishing and was determined to prove it could be cool which Claude went along with because River Monsters was a show he found both genuinely amazing and absolutely terrifying, before Sidney left for his room. 

They’d tried to convince management that they didn’t need separate hotel rooms, that it’d just be a waste of money, but the second the request reached Babcock he’d shut them down. No matter how many times they insisted that they could be perfectly professional and share a room without having sex - well, Claude had said that because Sidney blushed like a virgin still - he’d just shaken his head. He’d told them it was unnecessary since there were more than enough funds available to put them in separate rooms and save them the temptation. 

Jeremy Wade’s dulcet tones were cut off by the sharp melodic ringing that came with Sidney getting a text message. 

Claude mostly ignored it, grumbling a bit as Sidney stopped playing with his hair in order to grab it, and focused on the TV.

“Oh,” Sidney said after a moment, sounding genuinely surprised. 

Claude glanced away from the TV, looking back at Sidney with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

“Pat just texted me,” Sidney explained. “Apparently I won the Emmy.”

Claude stared at Sidney for a moment as he tried to process the information. It took several seconds before Claude blurted out, “Holy shit, you actually won?”

“Apparently,” Sidney said, focused on his phone more than Claude so he didn’t see the look of complete shock on his face. “Pat wants to know when I can do a photoshoot for it.”

“What the fuck,” Claude said. “How the fuck did you actually win?”

With the World Cup going on, Claude didn’t have much time to spend on Twitter for the rest of the month. He was scratched for most of the tournament, only getting to play in one game once the actual tournament started, but that didn’t mean he had a ton of free time. He spent a fair amount of time practicing and when there was a game he was in the press box watching. The free time he did have was spent with his and Sidney’s family’s, because a tournament actually in Canada tended to bring the horde with it, or with Sidney himself. 

When the tournament was over though, Canada declared champions, he was a little surprised to see a barrage of tweets directed at him. He got a fair amount of mentions regularly, both from Flyers fans and Penguins fans who directed Sidney related questions at him, but no where near the amount he had gotten recently. 

When he realized that most of those mentions were about Sidney’s Emmy, he decided to give the people what they wanted. 

Claude was a little surprised by the reaction fans had to actually seeing Sidney with his Emmy. The vast majority of people seemed just as baffled by it as he was while others seemed to believe Sidney getting it was some kind of offense to the sanctity of the Emmy’s or that it was just another sign that Sid was the greatest human being on earth. 

Claude was head over heels in love with Sidney, but that meant he knew Sidney and was far too familiar with Sidney’s flaws to think he was anywhere near as great as people thought he was. He was a fantastic hockey player and hot as hell, but he also had the strangest set of quirks and got ridiculously paranoid about each of them which most people didn’t get to see. 

Seeing another tweet implying that Sidney was the best thing since slice bread because he’d managed to collect the strangest combination of awards over the course of 2016 - the Stanley Cup and an Emmy - Claude felt his lips stretch up in a grin. 

He might’ve been separated from Sidney for a while, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t mess with him a bit. Sidney wouldn’t see the tweets directly, but Claude was sure it would get back to him either through his teammates or through Taylor. 

Claude had just finished his final tweet when he heard Sidney walk into the media room.

“Really, Claude?” Sidney questioned, sounding exasperated. He heard Sidney pick up the pictures he’d taken off the fireplace. 

The pictures were in a gold frame made out of three small rectangles that were connected by silver arms which could be folded. The first picture in the set was one Sidney’s mother had taken of Claude, Sidney, and Taylor when they’d all gone out on the boat together. Claude was lying on a lounger while Taylor hung over him wringing her hair out on his stomach and Sidney leaned against the side of the boat laughing at them. The third picture in the set was one Claude’s father had taken of Claude, Sidney, Isabelle, and Isabelle’s husband at Christmas the previous year. Isabelle’s husband was sitting in the armchair with Isabelle on his lap while Sidney was sitting in the middle of the couch with Claude lying across him. Claude was throwing bits of wrapping paper at Isabelle who had a scowl on her face and a glass of wine with a piece of wrapping paper in it held in her hand. The center picture was of Sidney and Claude on the ice after Sidney’s most recent cup win. Claude had his hands on both sides of Sidney’s face and Sidney was gripping Claude’s wrists. Both of their mouths were stretched in wide, ecstatic smiles. It was a photo that had been plastered across tabloids all over Pennsylvania, but it was a nice one and the original photographer had been happy to provide them with a copy.

“I liked these where they were,” Sidney said, the frames clinking together as the arms shifted. 

“They’ll look better on the wall in the hallway,” Claude said, which was true and was half the reason he’d decided to move them. He was pretty attached to every picture in that set and he wouldn’t have moved them in favor of the Emmy if he hadn’t had somewhere better in mind for them.

“They looked fine on the mantle,” Sidney objected. 

“Sid,” Claude said, looking over his shoulder to look at him, “I swear if you move this Emmy to put those photos back up then I’m breaking up with you right now.” 

“You will not,” Sidney objected, but he set the picture frame back down on the coffee table. 

“Good choice,” Claude said. Turning completely, he moved over to Sidney and pressed a kiss against his cheek as he wrapped his fingers around his wrist. Tugging gently, Claude said, “Come on, let’s go make lunch. We’ll hang the picture frame up once we’re finished.”

******

When Sidney had first arrived at the Letang’s house his plan had been to pop in to say a quick hello and drop Alex’s present off since he wouldn’t be spending Christmas in Pittsburgh. He hadn’t wanted to intrude since he knew how much days off meant to Tanger, since it meant he got to spend time with Alex and Catherine without having to worry about sticking to his pregame schedule, but the Letang’s clearly hadn’t seen his visit as an intrusion. 

The second she’d opened the door, Catherine had dragged him inside and asked him if chicken and rice would fit into his diet plan for the week or if he needed her to make something else for dinner. He’d been directed into the living room where Alex and Tanger had been building lego towers to destroy and the second Sidney walked in Tanger had been sighing with relief. As Alex ran up to him to give him a big hug, saying Sidney’s name in that happy wobbly way that all toddlers seemed to, Tanger climbed to his feet and declared that Sidney could take over the tower building because he’d been hit in the face by one too many stray blocks.

Sidney was sitting on the floor with Alex, dutifully building the lego tower back up for what seemed like the hundredth time so Alex could smash it again, when he heard Tanger start laughing behind him. 

Placing a green piece in the place Alex indicated, Sidney turned his head slightly so he could see Tanger. The defensemen was sprawled out in the armchair, his legs draped over one arm while his back was leaned against the other, with his phone in his hand. Raising one eyebrow, Sidney asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Claude’s on twitter airing his grievances about your Emmy again,” Tanger said, a small amused smile on his face as he scrolled down his phone. “I honestly can’t stand him, but watching him drag you is the highlight of my day. I’m learning so much about you.”

Sidney let out a heavy sigh. 

“Squid,” Alex said. Sidney turned his attention back to the toddler to find Alex pouting as he held a handful of legos out for Sidney. “Build. Please?”

“Yeah,” Sidney said with a nod, holding his hand out for Alex to dump the building materials in. “Sorry, buddy. I got distracted by your daddy being mean.”

As exasperated as Sidney acted about everything Claude had been posting on twitter, he didn’t really mind that much. Claude may have been sharing some embarrassing information, but it wasn’t anything particularly bad. Claude sharing the details of their domestic life probably just made things easier for their PR teams, who had struggled to figure out how to project their relationship when things had been so hostile between them in 2012. 

On top of that though, Claude’s twitter had actually had a pretty positive effect on Sidney’s life. Most of his teammates were following Claude so they could laugh at Sidney and that amusement had gone pretty far in getting rid of the hostility that still lingered between his teammates and his boyfriend. 

Sidney much preferred it when all the people he cared about were getting along instead of trying to rip each other's heads off. 

“Since you hate everything outside of your diet plan and I refuse to watch a movie without popcorn, I made unbuttered sea salt popcorn,” Claude said as he entered the media room. He was holding the popcorn in question in both hands, pulling on the flaps to cool it off a bit as he walked. “Feel free to ignore it’s existence. I’ll eat the entire bag myself.”

It was February 25th, the night of the Flyers and Penguins second game of the season. After playing a hard, well fought game the two of them had come back to Sidney’s place. The two of them had decided the best way to wind down was to watch The Magnificent Seven. It’d come out several months ago, but neither of them had really had the time to watch it before. 

They hadn’t really gotten to spend much time together at all since the season had started. There’d been a few times when they could spend a single night together, but it wasn’t until now that they could actually spend a significant amount of time together. They were usually too focused on each other, their lips sliding together and their hands warm against each other’s skin, to do things like this. Neither of them had another game until the 28th, though, so they were free to take their time and just enjoy being with each other.

“I’ll eat the popcorn,” Sidney said. 

He shifted around as Claude hopped over the back of the couch, giving Claude room to slot himself against Sidney. 

Claude ended up settling between Sidney’s thighs with his back against Sidney’s chest. Sidney wrapped his arms around Claude. With the popcorn bag settled in Claude’s lap, the position gave them both access to the food as well as an excuse to stay cuddled with each other. 

“Oh, really?” Claude drawled. “I thought it was against your principles”

“There’s room for one bag of popcorn in my diet plan,” Sidney said with a small roll of his eyes. “It’s not that restricting.”

“Might as well be with how seriously you take it,” Claude with a small huff. 

He leaned forward with the intention of grabbing the remote in order to start the movie, but his eye caught on something further in the room. Or rather, the lack of something else in the room. 

“Sidney,” he said, eyes focusing on the fireplace under the second TV in the room, “where’d the Emmy go?”

Claude wasn’t at Sidney’s house all the time, but when he was he took to retaliating to Sidney’s movement of the Emmy by placing it in the most ridiculous places. If Sidney didn’t want it on the mantle, fine. Claude would find somewhere else to put it. The first couple of times he did it, he made some comments about it on Twitter. He showed his followers the Emmy in a variety of places - in the fridge between the milk and orange juice or tucked under the duvet on his side of the bed. 

Once Claude established that the Emmy had a tendency to get moved, the general populace started taking an interest in it. 

Claude peeked into the bathroom. Sidney had slumped so far down in the bathtub that the water rested between his upper lip and nose. His eyes were closed, but there was an unhappy crinkle in the corner of his eyes and a downturn to his lips. He was about to step backwards and close the door behind him, leaving Sidney to himself, but then there was a small splash as Sidney straightened up a bit. 

“You know, you avoiding me isn’t helping,” Sidney said. He’d lifted far enough up so his mouth was just above the waterline, his eyes open and peering at Claude.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Claude said. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before crossing to the bathtub. “I was just giving you space. I know how hard it is to make it to playoffs just to get knocked out in round one.”

“Not helping,” Sidney said. 

Claude gave a small hum as he crouched down next to the tub. He was wearing an old work out tee so he wasn’t worried about getting it wet. He reached out and buried his fingers in Sidney’s wet hair, scratching at his scalp. Sidney let out a sigh, some of the tense lines in his shoulders easing out, and leaned into the touch. 

“That’s why I was leaving you alone,” Claude murmured. “I figured you’d want to work it out yourself before I came around and made it worse.”

“Not making it worse,” Sidney objected with a small shake of his head. “You make it better. Always better with you around.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not being completely useless than.” He leaned forward, sliding his hand down to cup Sidney’s neck and pressing a kiss against his forehead. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” Sidney said. “It sucks, but I’ve won it twice. That’s more than some people will in their entire career.”

Claude tried not to focus on the fact that right now he was one of those people facing the idea of going their entire career without a cup. Instead, he said, “And an Emmy. You can’t forget that you won an Emmy.”

“I’m not sure you’d let me,” Sidney replied drily.

“As long as you’re aware.”

Claude and Sidney were sitting on the bed in Claude’s condo. Sidney was sitting up against the headboard with Claude sat in the V of his legs with his back resting against Sidney’s chest. Sidney’s arms were around Claude, his hands clasped over Claude’s stomach. 

There was warm early morning sunlight streaming in the window, but neither of them had gone to sleep yet. They’d spent most of the night after the final game partying with the other Flyers and once they had gotten back home it had been all about getting their hands on each other. As they sobered up, the sex got slower and softer and more loving than rushed and excited.

Claude felt like he should have been exhausted after playing as hard as he had and partying as hard as he had and having as much really great sex as he had, but he still didn’t feel like sleeping. Everything was just warm and bright and happy. 

“How long did it take for them to get you your ring?” Claude asked. 

Sidney’s face was buried in Claude’s neck, he was obviously feeling the night a lot more intensely than Claude was, so when he hummed it was muffled. He pulled back, just enough so he could speak without being distorted but still close enough that every movement had his lips brushing against Claude’s skin in a tease, “A week or two? I didn’t really pay attention.”

“Horrible,” Claude remarked with a shake of his head, though his voice was fond. “What’s the point in having a boyfriend who won the Stanley Cup if he can’t tell you what to expect?”

“Apologies,” Sidney said, laughing a little as he nuzzled his nose against Claude’s neck. There was a small silence before Sidney said, “I’ve got a different ring for you to wear if you’re that impatient for one.”

“No thanks,” Claude dismissed. “I want my own cup ring, not one of yours.”

“Not my cup ring,” Sidney said with a small shake of his head. Claude had been resting his hands over Sidney’s, but now Sidney turned his own so he could twine their fingers together. “I was thinking something simpler. Like an engagement ring.”

Claude felt his heart stop in his chest. When he spoke, his words were a soft whisper, “What?”

“Marry me,” Sidney said. “Please?”

**Author's Note:**

> 1) [CrazyJ] Okay, so this was a giant work of love between myself and ThePackWantsTheD as we developed the fic originally in chat fic style and then decided it was too good of an idea not to write out completely. My better half was awesome for this fic and I loved every second of working on it!
> 
> 2) [ThePackWantsTheD] If you are wondering, I wrote the narrative for the story and CrazyJ created the tweets! [CrazyJ] Which is a weird way to write a story, but it was awesome and this was so much fun to write.
> 
> 3) [CrazyJ] All of the celebrity accounts are real, but all of the "fan" accounts are not real and have been verified as such. Also, 97% of the tweets were legitimately created by me, so who follows Claude and knows the one tweet and one picture I stole from him???
> 
> 4) [ThePackWantsTheD] The best part about this fic is that PHIL THE STANLEY FUCKING CUP CHAMPION THRILL MAKES AN APPEARANCE AND ITS AWESOME
> 
> 5) [CrazyJ] Please don't ask how long it took me to make the tweets. We aren't talking about it (but it wasn't actually that bad when you have a base set, so YOLO)
> 
> 6) [ThePackWantsTheD] I just love how we literally wrote a fic where Claude drags Sidney for 3,000 words
> 
> 7) [BOTH] We'd absolutely love to hear what you think of this story so please let us know what you think and if you'd like to see more as we'd really like to turn this into a series if people are into it! Let us know with comments and kudos and we look forward to hearing your thoughts because this is so different than usual??


End file.
